


Doubtful Friends and Certain Enemies

by artyartie



Series: the water's dark and deep inside this ancient heart [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Clint Has Issues, Family, Gen, Loki Does What He Wants, Original Character(s), Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1604702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artyartie/pseuds/artyartie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Three of the Water!verse, sequel to 'Mischief, Lies, and Other Hazards of Parenting' and 'Thor's Days.'  (Highly recommend you read the whole series first, if this is your first story in the verse!)  In which Loki, your typical single New York dad and trickster god, has to deal with vengeance, revenge, ancient magic, and some pretty big questions, and make sure his daughter still gets a birthday party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. splitting the sky

**Author's Note: After a long break, in which I studied for and passed (!) some truly horrible awful graduate school exams, I'm back. Thank you all for waiting after I left you on a cliffhanger! I hope the payoff will be worth it.** **Thanks, as always, to my amazing betas, Jade and Majoline, for their comments and encouragement during the loooooong break.**

* * *

"Daddy, is Madison coming to my party? Or Ashley? Or Hunter, though it's okay if he doesn't come."

Loki looked up from his food preparation. Once he'd bested foes with his knives and his cunning, now he used them in hopes of getting Kara to eat her vegetables. Carrot and jicama crinkle fries, radish flowers.

Well, if he was reduced to such menial work, then at least their lunches were the envy of the break room and the cafeteria. No sense in doing it poorly. He tucked away their treats into their respective containers: a rather stylish bento for him, and her beloved if slightly battered Captain America lunchbox.

"Madison and Ashley, yes. Hunter, I don't know, because his parents refuse to acknowledge deadlines as meaningful things."

Loki would be entertaining Kara, all eleven of her fellow Daisies, five classmates (four if a certain set of parents would adhere to basic social protocols), Miriam and her brood, and the self-named J Hood Wright Playground Posse - a joke of Stephen's that had considerable staying power.

"There will be tea, cake, dinosaur hats and wings enough for everyone." It gave Loki no small amount of pride that Kara had chosen Alice's Tea Cup for her party, but had insisted everyone come as a dinosaur.

One thing the party would not have was enough Asgardian mead to make its far too many guests tolerable, but there were three bottles of an especially fine, especially strong port that would have to serve as a post-party relaxation measure.

"What about the Avengers?"

Loki restrained from crushing Kara's Captain America thermos as he slipped it and her lunch box into her sparkling blue star-spangled backpack. "They said they would try to come. But they might have to go off and save the world." He rolled his eyes. "We can only hope."

"So they might all come," Kara said.

"If we're only so lucky." Loki tugged Kara into her jacket, then wrestled her puffy-jacket-clad arms into the straps of her backpack. "Do you have your homework?"

"Yes."

"And the first pair of many gloves I'll have to replace?"

"Yessssss."

"Well then. Shall we go?"

"Yeah!"

Loki smiled and leaned down to take her hand. He looked to the apartment, toys strewn across the living room, his mug full of lukewarm darjeeling still on the counter by Kara's bright green T-Rex cup. A matter of days more, and this life would be gone, and he and Kara would be away from Doom's violence, SHIELD's threat, and Asgard's prying eyes. He should be feeling nothing but an impending sense of triumph.

Damn the wiles of dinosaurs and tea, and his little girl's unabashed love for a world with them, for any momentary pang of regret.

* * *

Clint drew his collar up against the wind, a bitter breeze out of the north that rustled through the color-dappled trees below. But he wasn't watching the foliage. He was watching Loki, putting on his little act, and the girl holding his hand, who had no idea how much danger she was in. Or what her so-called father had done.

"Didn't take you for someone who watched the sun rise," said a voice behind him. Clint groaned and turned, finding a bemused Tasha holding an outstretched cup of coffee. "Should have known this was where you were."

"You could have called. Or at least texted," he said, taking the cup with an appreciative grunt. "And I didn't need help." He took a sip, felt at least five degrees warmer. "Okay, I needed the coffee."

Tasha shook her head as she glimpsed down below. Damnit it, why couldn't Loki just cross whatever line Tony was waiting for him to cross. Take himself out of the game, so Clint didn't have to even bother?

"Clint, we could just keep an eye on her, wait for Doom to finally get it right and take him out-"

"And what if he doesn't? We wait for Loki to piss off another supervillain? Hope he screws up enough, again, and takes out who knows how many people with him? That's crap and you know it."

"Tony can't keep this secret forever. We make sure Fury or Hill find out. I just - I don't want you doing whatever you're doing alone," Tasha said. She would follow him to hell and back, but this time he wasn't giving her the choice. "It's still gods and monsters."

"I still remember what it was like, having him in my head. How easy it was, shooting Fury, taking down who knows how many people on the Helicarrier...and you." Clint turned, offering her a smile that had no joy, no mirth, only a guilt that no amount of time would ever erase. Clint would die with that guilt.

So if that guilt ended a little sooner rather than later, Clint could live with it. Or die with it. Whatever.

"I know." Tasha sighed, her gaze fixed on him like Clint was her target, not her lover. "I hear it when you sleep, and trust me, if there's ever a day I can kill that guy I would, except I'd give you the pleasure first. But maybe...maybe we just have to settle for being patient. For being realistic."

"Or we can cheer Doom on for a while," Clint said sardonically, sipping at his coffee. "Loki must have screwed him over something good to be on his shit list."

"And you're surprised how?" Tasha grinned, the breeze blowing through her hair. She leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Don't stay too long," she says as she slowly rose to her feet.

"We have another mission?"

"No."

"Like you're going to stay in bed all morning."

"I might if I had the company." Clint offered her a crooked smile. She snorted, but finally turned and was gone.

Three more days, damn it. Then he gave Doom enough to find Loki and got Kara somewhere safe, and this farce was over. Done.

Clint shuddered in a sudden cold breeze, his collar not nearly thick or high enough to keep the hairs beneath from standing on end. Taking a sip of coffee - damned fitting Nat brought bitter warmth - he saw two crows, turning in slow spirals. What was that supposed to mean? The Romans used to split the sky, and decide if something was worth doing if the birds flew on the right. Clint held out his cup, left of the whirling, cawing shapes, silhouetted against the pale morning light.

There. Easy enough to take care of fate.


	2. a conspiracy most unkind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki knows a year is short. But on a brilliant October morning, on the heels of Kara's birthday, he'll find how long a single day can be.

**Author's note: Holy crap, kids, buckle your seatbelts and get ready for a ride.  This chapter is LONG, and it's a doozy.  Don't say I didn't warn you.**

**And a million, million, million thanks to Amanda, Jade, and Majoline, who not only beta'd this monstrosity, but did so amazingly.  This story would not be the same without you. :)**

 

* * *

 

_Gwydion Residence, Washington Heights_

_6:03 a.m_

“When do I get to go to your museum?”

Loki raised a brow as he carefully unwound the twists in Kara’s hair, painstakingly set and covered the night before.  “Why in the world would you want to go to my work?  You have heard me grumble on about how boring it is.”

“It wouldn’t be boring if you and me were there!”

“That is certainly true.” Loki smirked at his daughter’s perceptiveness.  “Well, perhaps I could talk to your teacher about a tour in a month or so.”  Not that he or Kara would be on this miserable planet in a month’s time - or a week’s - but it was harmless to indulge her wish.  

He could see Kara’s scowl in the mirror.  “You don’t have to bring my whole class.”

“Tell me it isn’t that wretch of a girl again,”  Loki’s fingers twitched around a half-unwound strand.

“It is!” Kara squirmed in her miniature fury, and he could see her ball up her tiny fists.  “I bet she’s gonna say it looks like I stuck my finger in a light socket.”

It had not taken Loki long to realize there were few children who looked like his daughter in her class.  Nor did it take him long to note how venomous mothers whispered about the unseemliness of her curls, and how their comments were less about the style of her hair than the hue of her skin.  It was so foolish, for any human to think themselves above another - for they were all mere mortals anyway.  But he would be damned if vapid wenches in Barney's off-season cast-offs (or their offspring) would keep him from making Kara better than any of her kind.  

“If she’s fool enough to tell you that today, when you look absolutely adorable,” he said as he unwound the last twist, pulling her hair back from her forehead with a sparkling silver headband, “What are you going to tell her?”

Kara’s little brow scrunched up in thought.  “That...she’s a big stinky poopyhead!”

He smiled and leaned down, pressing a kiss atop her head, her curls brushing against his cheek.  Her sharp tongue still needed a whetstone. “Well.  That’s a start.”  

 

* * *

 

_Metropolitan Museum of Art, South Entrance_

_8:36 a.m._

 

Ever since he stepped off the M4 and onto the already bustling sidewalk along 5th Avenue, Loki had a growing number of followers as he wound his way to the semi-private employees' entrance.

A flock of birds - black feathers slick in the morning light, black beaks rapping on the ground, black eyes looking past and through him - fluttered around Loki around like a pool of oil.

If Loki had faith in one thing, it was his magic, and he had learned things in his exile, ways to hide from Asgard's all-seeing eyes, whether Heimdall's or the damned ravens, who Loki had always hated, if only because there was nowhere on Asgard - or the Nine Realms, it once seemed, he could escape the Allfather's scorn.

But even Huginn and Muninn couldn't break the magic he'd learned in that unending abyss - if they were even among the silent, scratching, tapping flock at his feet. He would be naught but a shimmer to Odin's far-reaching gaze, and his words would be nothing but the rustle of the wind.

He sneered at his avian companions.  "Look all you wish.  Peer deep as you can.  In a few days you will never find me, save when I come to repay Asgard all the kindness it showed-"

A voice quietly coughed, and Loki could hear the eyebrow being raised in his direction.

"Oh God, another one lost to community theatre."  Theresa Corby was a paper conservationist who split her time between the Main Building and the Cloisters, and so they'd shared a few sweaty, muggy rides on the M4 together, given Washington Heights was all but in-between. "That really didn't sound like Ibsen."

Loki turned, his sneer replaced with what he hoped was an embarrassed smile.  "A bit more performance art-"

Her thin eyebrows rose even higher as the small, sturdily-built woman rolled her eyes.  "Even worse."

Loki chuckled, tilting his head.  "Fair enough.  A bit of meta-criticism against the Norse pantheon, given how many idiots who suddenly want to venerate the Scandinavian antiquities once someone with a cape and a helmet starts calling himself Thor."

Theresa grinned an expression of slightly malicious glee as she held her messenger bag against the key reader.  The door unlocked with a beep and a heavy click, and she pulled it open.  "Oh, I so need front-row tickets for that."

 

* * *

 

_South Street Seaport, Lower Manhattan_

_9:06 a.m._

 

Yet another group of oblivious kids ran past him, not one turning around or pausing, even for a second.  They might have been small, but there were enough of them, clad in their matching uniforms, to make the pier shake under their stomping. Clint was in sunglasses, a frayed baseball cap, and three days of stubble, so he wasn’t exactly looking to be noticed, but every now and then, it would be nice if even a damned kid would remember he was an Avenger, too.

Clint had never been to the South Street Seaport, but he saw why the tourists and school kids would eat it up: the Brooklyn Bridge, sillhouetted against the early morning sky on one side, and the museum’s tall ships nestled beneath the silvery skyscrapers of Lower Manhattan on the other.

Steve would get a kick out of the contrast, if he was here.  But Steve wasn’t here, because he was a decent person.  Too decent to do what needed to be done.  Clint prayed, or would have prayed if he believed anything or anyone was listening, that none of them, even Natasha, and especially Thor, ever found out what he did.  But he was ready to face it if they did.  There might be casualties today, and Clint was ready to be one of them.

A familiar head of curls dashed past him.  Kara’s high-pitched giggles struck him harder than any super weapon could, but damn it, he was the only one doing the right thing for her.  He was making the hard call.  He was keeping her safe.  He could still hear her laughter as he unlocked the phone in his hand, fired off a simple message telling Doom his quarry was in the acquisition wing of the Met - Scandinavian antiquities.  No sooner than he sent the message he snapped the phone in half, dropping its remains into a bin.

"Kraa!" A raven hopped out from behind the trash can, tapping its beak against the ground.  It was skinny, missing a couple feathers.  Clint almost felt bad for the thing.  It wasn't a pigeon, so that helped his sympathy.

"Here," he said, fishing a protein bar out of a pocket.  Funny, doing the right thing was making his stomach feel like it'd gone a few rounds at Staten Island.  "Looks like you need it more."

Clint dropped the unwrapped bar, jammed his hands into his now empty pockets, and walked away.  There'd be a signal. Something.  Supervillains didn't attack a major museum quietly. And here he'd be, waiting to swoop in, keep Kara safe.

As he walked into the brightening skyline, Clint didn't see the raven watching him, unmoving, as a passel of sparrows picked the peanut butter-flavored offering to pieces.

 

* * *

 

_South Street Seaport, Interior_

_9:48 a.m._

 

The building still smelled old.  Kara liked it - the smell of bricks and wood were comfy, like her favorite blanket or a cup of hot chocolate.  She even liked the ships - they were all about going places and discovering things, even if the only boat Kara had ever been on was a paddle boat in the park.

Alice and Oscar looked bored, though.  Alice's dads had taken her to the museum this summer, and she said she hated it then, and Oscar said planes were faster and cooler, so even though Kara was with her best friends, this was anything but fun.

“I wanna go back and see the lighthouse light,” Kara said, dragging her shiny shoes on the slippery floor.  

“It’s just a stupid light,” Oscar said, already almost at the door with Mrs. Lowsley, one of their chaperones, who must have been playing a fun game on her phone.

Kara wished her daddy could have come.  He would have been excited.  He would have liked the ships.  He would have let her go see the light.  He would have told awesome stories about pirates and sea monsters and made some of the kids cry (but not her), and after they got home they would both laugh at how easy it was to scare people.  And he wouldn't be on his phone all the time.

Mrs. Lowsley sighed.  “You can go with Mr. Hamilton’s group.  I think the rest of us are done.”  She looked down at Kara, frowning, like she'd done something wrong.  "Make sure you tell him your daddy's phone number.”  Her voice got all muttery, but Kara could still hear her.  “I hope Alex has unlimited texts."

Alice and Oscar pouted.  “You can’t leave us!”

“You can come with me.”

Alice looked at her shoes and Oscar shrugged.  “We’ll eat lunch with you.  And maybe the ships outside will be cooler,” Oscar said.

Kara grinned.  She could definitely get them to play pirates on the ships. "They're gonna be so much cooler. See you later!"

Nobody was in the lighthouse room when Kara ran past it. She knew she should have found Mr. Hamilton, but what if he was bored and on his phone too?  So it would be totally okay if she just looked at it herself, right?  

The room was full of tiny little rainbows, and Kara didn't know if her daddy would think it was magic, but she did.  The colors twinkled and sparkled, and her friends were so silly, because this was the best thing in the museum ever.  Even better than maybe playing pirates.  The rainbows seemed to dance all around her.

Kara clapped and giggled, as the room turned into one giant rainbow.

 

* * *

 

_Metropolitan Museum of Art, Curatorial Offices_

_9:54 a.m._

 

Loki's hold on the little wolf would have been tight enough to break it, if the little artifact was anything but a powerful, if sullenly inert, thing.  There wasn't enough lemongrass tea on Midgard to calm him, following the morning’s brush with the ravens and all they represented. He had bombarded Kara’s chaperone with texts demanding to know if Kara was alright for the past hour.

Amy Lin, the continued lone voice of sanity among his colleagues, peered up from her desk, brows knit together. "I've got a Xanax if you need one."

Loki set down the little wolf, willing his fingers to strengthen, and for his face to relax from whatever frightening visage it was to a slightly less threatening appearance.  "That's quite all right.  I am just-" He trailed off, for not only was that how humans around here spoke, but he had little sense of his thoughts besides anger and fury at so many things, at present, beyond his control.

"Stressed? Anxious? A single dad in the most cutthroat place on earth to be a parent?"  Amy raised a brow and took a sip out of her slightly chipped Vasa mug.  "Please don't tell me you’re stressing out about this party for Karen-"

Loki sight and grit his teeth.  "Kara.  Her name is Kara."

"I know, not good with the whole ‘names of people who aren't Early Iron Age Scandinavians’ thing."  Amy waved her hand at him.  "But if you turn into some Prada messenger bag-toting asshole ramming people with a double stroller-"

"I only have the one daughter, and she does know how to walk."

"Whatever. My point is, you seem like a good dad.  You don't have to be someone you're not."  Amy's expression was so genuine, her simple compliment so heartfelt.

How absolutely foolish and naive these humans were.  That Loki was a good father - well, he was far better than Odin.  He wondered if that was enough to elevate him into the ranks of the good.  But as for being someone he wasn't...

His affable smile hid the heaviness of wearing so many guises, one atop the other.  "Well, I will rely on you to slap any designer satchels out of my hand."

"Gladly."

One of the lowly interns, who trudged away only for a few measly college credits, approached their desks with a pitiful excuse for an interrupting cough.  "Mr. Gwydion?  Reception says you have a visitor.  Kinda important?"  

Loki stood, slowly, giving the boy a withering glare, even as his hand tightened.  The magic pulsed beneath his skin, ready if his guest was anyone but whom he expected - or perhaps if it was.

 

* * *

 

_South Street Seaport, Exterior_

_10:02 a.m._

 

Police.  Fire Department.  Even the S.H.I.E.L.D. intel frequencies technically above his clearance level.  

Nothing on the scanners, except the typical low-level mayhem.  Not a goddamned peep from the Met.

His earpiece beeped, the staccato signal he'd assigned to Tasha.  

"One hell of a walk," she said, and Clint could just hear her arms fold against her chest.

"You know me. I like the walking."

"To where, Brooklyn?"

Clint looked a bit guiltily at the said bridge in the distance.  "Just got a lot to think about.  Everything okay?"

"Be nice if you had a little something to talk about, just saying," Tasha answered.  "But Tony has an interesting impromptu meeting this morning.  Either he's looking to buy out a few wings of the Met to decorate the Tower, or - I don't know.  Who knows what he and Loki talk about."

Shit.  Clint's hands went slick, and his stomach jammed somewhere in his throat.  Shit shit shit shit shit. He opened his mouth but he couldn't make a sound.

"Clint?"  Her voice sounded tinny, distant, like she was standing on the balcony, shouting into the wind and the city below.  "Clint?"

 

* * *

 

_Metropolitan Museum of Art, Back Offices_

_10:03 a.m._

 

Was it just Tony, or did Loki actually look relieved to see him?

"I like the look."  Tony tilted his head at Loki's ensemble: black-washed jeans, a pale-green button down, and a charcoal grey coat with black leather patches at the elbows.  "It's GQ in tweed.  Though seriously, you can wear colors besides green and black.  It's like you're an ambiguously aligned Power Ranger."

"The Green Ranger was something of a chimera, Stark."  Because of course Loki would know about dreadful 1990s children's shows.  "But if we could dispense with our usual pleasantries, I would appreciate keeping this meeting short.  I have a job, a tea shop to call, and, oh yes, a supervillain to defeat because you humans are so miserable at doing it yourselves."

"If I remember correctly, and I do remember correctly, we humans did a pretty spectacular job kicking your ass.  Twice.  I can't help it if Richards isn't as amazing as I am."  Tony snorted, his fingers twirling around a cool, metallic device in his pocket.  "Considering I've figured out how to bring Doom down in two weeks and he's been at it for how long?"

Loki's pale eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms across his chest.  "And clearly the fact he eliminated a double in Chicago last week means your device works perfectly."

Tony brought the little thing out as he held his hands up.  It was deceptive - smooth metal but in combat it barrage of blades beneath would disrupt Doom's armor and whatever additional shielding he had - any magical defenses were up to Loki.  "Okay, so not field tested on his armor, but this thing destroyed a few of mine.  It'll do its job.  And, by the way, it won't do that job on me, but considering I'm the potential father of your child-"

"Potential guardian, Stark.  Anyone who would potentially combine their genes with yours..."

"No talking about Pepper that way."  Tony bounced the little ball of arc reactor-resistant proof extreme hurtage in his palm.  "You and Kara, you're okay?"

"We're both still here, aren't we?"

Tony was going to sprain an eye muscle one day with this guy. "Even when I try to be nice you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but you're my pain in the ass."

"Such touching words, Stark," Loki's smile was as warm as Steve's love life.  "If we can get to the actual matter of this meeting, however."

"I was just surprised you, you know, stooped to actually asking for help.  Usually you're all 'blah blah blah all-powerful god blah blah puny mortals blah blah."  Tony shrugged as he rolled the device between his fingers.  "But if protecting your little bundle of Cap-loving adorableness means fitting you out with an awesome bit of custom Stark tech, I can do it."   

Loki grinned.  "You may be a clever tinkerer, but I am more powerful than you-"

"Well, I want to hear the all-powerful god say please-"

Tony could practically hear Loki's jaw tighten.  "How about I promise not to hurl you through the ceiling if you give that to me."

Tony's hand closed and jammed the thing back in his pocket.  "Okay, now you really aren't getting it until you say please."

"I am warning you, Stark-" But whatever smart-ass reply or bit of violence Loki had in mind never happened.  A bird - Jesus, the thing was strong - crashed through  a window and spiraled for them, black feathers and broken glass in its wake.  So maybe Tony ducked faster than the woman at reception, but Loki's hand was quicker, snapping and catching the bird around the neck.  

"So now we wandered into a Hitchcock movie."  Tony straightened and rubbed at the back of his neck.  "That was fun."

Loki didn't answer.  One hand was still tight around the bird's obviously broken neck.  Something silvery was clutched in the bird's talons, and Loki's other hand untangled it.  His jaw was set, pale eyes ablaze, and Tony heard the snap of bones and sinews beneath Loki's fingers

But before he even had the chance to ask, Loki flung the bird to the ground, pulled Tony around the corner, and then everything vanished in a flash of greenish light.

 

* * *

 

_South Street Seaport, Exterior_

_10:06 a.m._

 

"Hey mister."

Oh kid, this was not the time to finally recognize him.  Tasha was so not buying his technical difficulty excuse, and how the hell was he going to warn Tony without blowing the entire plan?  Doom was taking his sweet time, so maybe Tony would be gone before everything went down?

Shit.  

"Hey mister!" The little kid was persistent, Clint gave him that.

"Listen, kid, I don't have time for autographs-"

"Why would I want your autograph?"  The kid fixed him with a scowl. "The bird told me to tell you Doom has what he wants. Why's a bird talking to you?"

"But he doesn't even have Loki-" Clint shuddered as he glimpsed the raven behind the boy, cawing raucously. If the bird was Doom's magical pet, and it knew he was here, what else did it know?

Clint bolted down the pier, heart already pounding.

"Hey mister, are you famous or something?"

 

* * *

 

_South Street Seaport, Interior_

_10:06 a.m._

 

Tony felt like he was going to be sick.  He wasn't sure how much of that was because of whatever 'beam-me-up' spell Loki had just done on them both, or why he’d done it.

Not that Loki was here.  There'd been another flash of light, and then Loki was gone, but it wasn't magic: just him opening to a cramped maintenance closet now only lit by the muted glow of Tony's arc reactor, shining through his shirt.  He might not have his armor at the moment, but he still had JARVIS.

"JARVIS," he asked, holding up his wrist and the slender band around it.  "Where the hell am I?"

"It seems to be a closet, sir."

"So not in the mood for this right now."

"Understood.  It would be a closet at the South Street Seaport."  There was a pause.  "Several classes from Fieldston Lower appear to be here today."

The roiling in Tony stomach gave way to leaden, immobile knots.  "Get me Steve."

"Putting Captain Rodgers through now, sir."  

Thank God Steve had finally learned how to use the comm systems.  "What's going on, Tony? Did the meeting-"

"Meeting's over.  Some birds attacked us and Loki magicked us over to South Street.  Kara's here on a field trip.  Obviously not liking where this is going."  Tony opened the door to a bewildered janitor; Tony smiled and sauntered out of the closet like he came out of them all the time.  "Might need you and Captain Hammer here.  The whole team if Doom's still here.  I'll try and find..."

But there Loki was in front of him as he turned the corner, and there was Kara, bouncing happily at his side, while he railed at a group of dumb-struck parents about finding Kara alone. "Uh, that didn't take long.  And he's got your littlest biggest fan, so crisis averted?"

"Good to hear," Steve answered, and Tony could hear the genuine relief in so few words.  "Let me know if you'll need us.  I'll work on getting Natasha and Clint back to the tower.  Rogers out."

"We're leaving, Stark," was all Loki said.  Given how white and knock-kneed the chaperones looked, Tony thought they were the lucky ones.  "Follow me, and whatever you do, don't touch her."

Okay, the crisis wasn't averted, but Tony knew enough not to scare a bunch of civilians if he didn't have to.  Tony trailed after Loki and Kara, who seemed perfectly normal.  A little quiet, but she was skipping, and that was a good thing, right?

They passed from the museum onto the sunlit city streets, at least until Loki dragged them into the nearest alleyway.  "Now can you explain what's going on? She seems fine to me," Tony said, looking at the little girl, who was rocking back and forth on her feet.  "Did your dad do your hair?  Cause he's getting decent at it and the headband's a nice tou-"

The headband.  It was a strip of silver, sparkling even in the shadows, naggingly familiar.  Now Tony saw it, the silver in Kara's hair - and what Loki was clutching in his trembling hand.  What the raven had been holding in its claws.

Loki smiled at Kara with a grief that Tony couldn't bear to watch.

Loki leaned down and brushed a hand against Kara's cheek, or would have, if his fingers hadn’t gone through her skin, like one of Loki's magic copies.  What Tony thought was Kara smiled and dissolved into a shimmering, fading Kara-shaped space.  Loki straightened, slowly, and sent the same hand hurling into the wall.  The building shook and when Loki withdrew his hand, Tony could see the bloody gouges on his knuckles.  Knuckles that were practically white from clutching Kara’s - the real Kara’s - headband.

For a moment, Tony couldn't say anything.  There weren't any words that could make something like this better.  "Oh God," he finally managed.  "Is she..."

"She's gone, Stark," Loki said, his voice a barely controlled whisper.  "Doom has her, and she's gone."

  



	3. OOC: Watch This Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author, after a long lapse, many life experiences, and sincere regrets for abandoning her story and her readers, returns to the fold with another chapter coming within the next few weeks. 
> 
> AKA: The story is back! Thank you all so so much for your patience!

Loki raised a single dark brow, lips turned up in a crooked and displeased manner. "I was beginning to wonder if we would ever see you again."

The author winced, tucking her head into her shoulders. "Sorry. Life got a little...busy."

"Busy." Loki kept his brow lifted. "Were you arranging to overthrow your brother's throne?"

"Uh, no..."

"Were you conquering the Earth with an alien army?"

"No, but you kinda didn't do that either-" The flash in Loki's eyes turned the author's remaining words into an incoherent, apologetic mumble.

"So, by your...human...standards, you were 'busy.'" Loki raised his hands and curled his fingers inward.

The author wondered why she ever taught Loki air quotes. "Yes, but I'm back! So now we get to see what happens with you and Kara-"

"Ah yes. Kara." Loki smiled, but it was the kind of smile that could curdle milk and maybe the cow if it tried. "Whom you left with Doom. How very kind of you."

"I'm sorry! It's all going to work out." The author somehow managed not to crawl beneath her chair. "Really."

"You could at least try and make it up to me," Loki said, leaning back in his chair.

"Anything." The author regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. "I mean, anything within reason."

"Would that include an eternity of torment for one Clint Barton?"

"Errrrr..." The author noticed Natasha peering in the door, and she wondered who she should fear most. 

"Merely a suggestion." Loki smiled, baring all his teeth, and rose out of his chair. He clapped her on the shoulder. "But you'd best get to writing."


	4. the tempest thy trust has betray'd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony gets Loki to accept the value of teamwork for all of two seconds, Natasha and Bruce have a heart to heart, and Clint tries not to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for your patience and encouragement. And without any more delay, the next *actual* chapter!
> 
> ************

There were lots of stupid things Tony had done in his life. Arms dealing. Trying to outdrink Thor. Frosted tips.

Trying to stop a god from taking out a chunk of prime waterfront real estate in a rage fit, no matter how justified, was definitely up there. But when were little things like common sense or self-preservation going to stop him?

“We’re gonna get her back-“ Tony put a hand on Loki’s wrist, drawing it back because my god, his skin was tongue on a frozen flagpole cold and it was shaking with a rage that Tony would rather not send him into the wall.

“And how was she taken, Stark,” Loki hissed, flicking Tony’s hand away so fast his wrist nearly snapped. “How did Doom find her?”

“The guy has tech and magic and he’s been trying to….do not nice things to you,” Tony said. Best not use the ‘k’ word at the moment. “We should have kept an eye on her. I know you have magic and what I now realize is a healthy sense of paranoia, but we should have helped.”

“How do I know you didn’t help already,” Loki said, low and menacing, taking a step towards Tony. “How do I know you didn’t hand her over to him?”

“Because he’s a homicidal maniac?”

Loki smiled, bright and bitter, and advanced towards Tony, nearly pinning him against the wall. “And whatever gave you the idea I’m not?”

“You saving those people from the flying car during that fight, raising a moderately well adjusted preschooler in New York. You know, things you’ve done.” Tony drew in a deep breath, watched as Loki’s icy rage began to melt. “And things you’re going to do, to get her back, and you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I-“ Loki’s nostrils flared and his eyes closed, but his shoulders sank, ever so slightly. “Very well, Stark.”

“That’s a less than enthusiastic team spirit but it’s a start.” Tony clenched his fists in victory. “Lemme get the team and we’ll give that Haunted Mansion of a Latverian embassy a call.” Tony shook his head as he raised a hand towards his earpiece. “Seriously, thinking one of us handed over that little bit of Cap-loving adorableness to Doom. Who would be stupid enough to do that?”

Tony winced as his earpiece squealed in his ear. Either it was broken, or that was the “things are really fucked up” alert.

Well, it wasn’t wrong.

“Clint, unless there’s an apocalypse on the schedule, you need to get the team here-“

In hindsight, Tony would learn two things: he needed a better brain to mouth filter, and he needed to work on his poker face.

“Wait, what? You did what?!”

 

********

 

It was never hard to find the Avengers. Just follow the trail of carnage.

At least he was on the following side for once, Bruce thought, pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. Not that he expected to stay, well, him, for long. Muffled explosions over the comm nearly drowned out Tony’s insistent and increasingly louder requests to hurry the hell up.

“Hey.” Natasha sidled up besides him, hand on his arm. He could feel the quiet thrum of the generators at her wrist. Funny how the Other Guy felt less inclined to snap Natasha in half these days.

Baby steps.

“Hey. So, not really Clint’s best idea.” He tried to make his voice more reassuring, and less gently fatalistic.

“I know.” Natasha tensed her shoulders, sighed, looked upwards before looking at him with a flash of remorse to quick and genuine to be feigned. “I mean, I knew. That he was trailing Loki. We - Clint and I - were going to call in SHIELD, rescue the girl.” She tilted her head, her bangs sweeping against her raised eyebrows. “I thought Loki would make her a pawn. Turn her into something awful. Can’t imagine why.”

“You aren’t awful. Not anymore.” Bruce furrowed his brow, pushed his glasses, which refused to stay in place, back up his nose. “Wait, you thought? Past tense? That seems a little generous.”

Natasha tilted her head to the chaos crackling through the speakers. “You don’t get angry like that when you lose a tool. He’s still evil, but he cares about her. In his own way.” She pursed her lips. “If he wasn’t lying about that, maybe he wasn’t lying about the magic apples either.”

“Magic what?”

“Loki ran into me a few months ago. Told me if Clint did anything, he’d feed him these magic apples, make him live almost forever.”

“That…seems really nice of him.”

Natasha flexed her wrists as the Quinjet began its descent.“Well, it was so he could torture Clint and he’d never die.”

“Ah.” Bruce slowly unbuttoned his shirt, a comfortable button down he’d rather not replace. “That sounds more like our unhinged demigod.”

“Yeah. So if…the Other Guy could help save Clint from our mistake-“

Bruce smiled crookedly at the assassin. “I’m sure he’ll do his best.”

 

********

 

At least Clint wasn’t dead.

Of course, Loki’s fingers were clenched around his throat and everything was getting grey at the edges of his vision but he wasn’t dead. Yet.

He wasn’t sure how Loki and Stark had found him so fast - something he’d ask later if he was still alive. Once Loki started throwing him into buildings, Stark was nice enough to summon his armor.

Even that didn’t explain why Clint was still alive and not a human pancake smeared against a brick wall. Or why Loki hadn’t done likewise to the tourists screaming and fleeing for their comparatively pain-free lives.

And then there was a crackle of white, and Clint could see again. And breathe. Which probably explained the seeing. He rubbed at his throat as Thor pushed Loki, literally, into the bricks.

“Brother, his death will bring you no benefit.” Years on Earth and Thor still sounded like someone from Shakespeare in the Park. Clint felt small but strong hands at his back, and damned was he glad to have Nat there.

Maybe she could help him work out the guilt and fear that said Clint deserved _something_. Maybe not death, but Jesus, he’d let someone even worse than Loki get ahold of the little girl.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill him.” Loki sneered and looked at Nat - wait why was he looking at Nat - with a menacing smile. “You can ask the little spider, she knows I will keep my word.”

Thor furrowed his brows, but had the sense not to ease up on his hold. “Thank you, brother.”

Nat groaned, but Clint felt her hands tense, the hum of an electric charge building at her wrists. Clint almost fell bad for Loki if he even tried to go through Nat to get him - not as if Clint would ever let that happen. “Don’t thank him yet -“

Hulk thundered down the alley, and snatched Loki out of Thor’s hands. Loki’s smirk withered and his eyes bulged. Later, Clint would have sworn he heard a muffled yelp. Hulk shook Loki in his giant green hands. “Bad puny god. No hurt Hulk’s…”

“Friends,” Clint said, voice raspy. Hulk raised a brow, and Clint shrugged, rubbing at his neck. “Acquaintances?”

Hulk grunted. Loki tried to use the distraction to slip away, but the whir of Cap’s shield above his head nipped that escape attempt.

“If all of you stop bickering, we can concentrate on the most important thing: rescuing Kara. Loki, that means you don’t kill Clint.” Loki turned a withering stare on Steve.

“If you had been here earlier, you’d know I have no intention of killing him.”

Nat coughed. “At present.”

“Fair enough,” Loki said.

“Fine.” Steve turned his gaze on Clint, and that guilt in his gut just bubbled up. “Clint, we need you to tell us what happened. The truth, no matter how much it hurts.”

“I just wanted to keep her safe. I didn’t mean for her to get involved-“ Clint wanted to look away, but he had to own up to this before he could set it right. “But I did. What I planned to do was hand over Loki to Doom. Let him deal with him, kill him, whatever. And you and Tony could have raised her, or helped her find another family. All I saw in that deal was disaster. And then I went and made it worse.”

Tony slid his face-shield back. “You did. You fucked up, Clint. But I am going to save the well-deserved lecture and possible ass kicking for after we rescue Kara.”

“I’ll do anything.” Clint brought himself to his feet. “Go back to Doom, you name it.”

Tony shook his head. “What you’re going to do is tell us everything about his sadistic funhouse of an embassy, and every meeting you two had. And then you’re going to sit at the tower and think about your life choices.”

“But-“

“No buts. You’re compromised.” Clint wanted to have an objection, but maybe Tony was right. And he hated it when Tony was even possibly right.

“Pardon me for deciding how best to save my daughter from your meddling,” Loki growled, as the Hulk reluctantly let him slide from his crushing hold. “But I won’t be needing help from you. Or any of your traitorous little band.”

“Hey.” Tony held his armored hands up. “Just because Clint’s a bad apple-“

“Come now, Stark. Clint is rotten, down to his twisted little core. I’ve seen it,” Loki said, and his words hit Clint’s chest like the tip of the sceptre. “All of you pitiful mortals are, and you were a fool to try to make me think otherwise. _I_ will rescue Kara. _I_ will take her far from your meddling.” He took a menacing step towards Tony that made the Hulk growl and Thor lift his hammer. “And I swear, if anything, anything, happens to her, I will kill you all without mercy and without hesitation.”

Loki turned his head, focusing eyes bright with unshed tears and barely restrained rage on Clint. “You. You can see them all suffer, beg for me to spare them, offer your life for theirs,” he said in a low purr that set Clint’s hair on edge. “And you can watch them all die.”


	5. her proud spirits and wilfull temper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a flashback further explains Loki's travel plans, Doom finds babysitting Kara is not an easy task, and Loki makes a deal.

Happy Thanksgiving, readers! A new chapter, just in time for reading over pie. Thank you so much for all your comments and support!

_***_

_Two months prior_

“Kara, do you remember when I told you this tree was magic?”

Sipping on a juice pouch, Kara nodded. Even if the tree wasn’t really magic, Kara loved the shade, blocking their picnic from the angry sun.

 “What if I told you it could take you anywhere you wanted.”  Daddy tossed a yellow apple up and down in his hand.

 Kara set down the juice and raised her eyebrows. “Anywhere?”

 “Absolutely.”

 “Sere-, Serdip-, the fancy ice cream place-“

 Daddy stopped tossing the apple, his eyebrows crinkled like dark caterpillars.  “We could take a taxi there-“

 “Then Doovoo donuts, where the donuts look like people-“

 “What?” Now Daddy looked really confused.  

 “It was on a food show.” Kara pursed her lips. Daddy did say _anywhere_.

 “Right. You and I do like the food shows.” And then Daddy smiled, just a little, and Kara smiled back.  “I mean somewhere  very very far away from people.”

 “Like Montana?” Kara grabbed her juice pouch so tight she made a cherry flavored fountain.

 “Montana?”

 “Montana! Where Sue the dinosaur is from. I want to see if there’s more dinosaurs!”  Kara scrambled over the slightly sticky blanket. “Please, please could we go there?”

 “Well, I don’t know about Montana, but I do know this trees goes to places where there are things better than dinosaurs.” Kara loved Daddy’s voice when it was like this, soft but excited. “And things more magical and amazing than in any book you’ve read.”

 “Even Harry Potter?”

 Daddy laughed, and he ruffled her curls. “Yes, even Harry Potter. So what do you say? A trip on a magic tree? I was thinking it could be your birthday present.”

 Kara nodded, feeling warmer than any sun could make her. 

***

_Present Day_

 Kara knew her daddy was coming for her. She could see flashes of green light in the cloudy, dark sky, and Kara knew her daddy was out there, using his magic, trying to bring her home.

 Even though Kara had never gone anywhere by magic she knew it wasn’t Daddy’s magic that brought her here. Kara remembered Daddy saving them in the subway, and his magic shield felt like snow and smelled like Christmas trees and sounded like his soft, excited voice. This magic was wrong; it felt like a scratchy sweater and smelled like burned toast and sounded like the front door when it stuck and dragged against the floor.

 The magic had brought her here, a room where everything was dark grey, even the fancy bed that looked like a tent and the heavy curtains. It was bigger than her room and maybe prettier but the door was locked and no one answered when she yelled. She wanted her messy room, in her house, with her Daddy. Kara had scrambled to the window and shouted - for her daddy to get her, for him to find her, for him to be safe.

 But the green flashes stopped, and Kara’s throat felt tight and her tummy hurt and she wanted to scream and cry. A man in a metal mask opened the door, and Kara wanted to hurt him, ‘cause she knew he hurt her daddy.

 “Ahhhhh, the little mortal pet.” The metal man was scary. His green cape swished around him and the more Kara could feel his magic the more she didn’t like it. She wanted to cry but crying wasn’t going to help her escape. And daddy would want her to escape. So she stomped on his toes and punched his legs instead.

 “I’m not a pet,” Kara said. Whatever mortal meant, she probably wasn’t that either.  “And my daddy is super mad at you.”

 “Silence, child. I do not need your words, only proof of your continued existence.” The metal man held out a metal hand, and Kara was floating. FLOATING. It would be so cool if he wasn’t so bad.

 “I don’t wanna be quiet. I want my daddy and if you don’t give me back he’s going to squish you.” Daddy was gonna squish him, right?  “He has powers. I bet they’re better than your powers. AND daddy knows the Avengers.”

 “The Avengers will not save you from Doom.” The metal man lifted Kara higher into the air, and Kara yelped. “The Avengers gave you to Doom.”

 “You’re a big liar.” Kara was scared, and her voice wanted to make a funny, shaking sound. “Cap’n ‘Merica and Iron Man and Hulk are good and even Thor is good and you’re bad.” And good people didn’t let bad people get little girls like her.

 “You are deceived.” The metal man curled his fingers and Kara jerked forward. “The Avengers gave you to Doom to keep you from a bad man.”

 Kara shook her head. She knew who the scary man meant. “My daddy’s not bad.” She closed her eyes and though of everything mean she could say. “You’re mean, and you lie, and you say your own name too much.”  She opened her eyes and tilted her head, feeling braver and stronger. “Why do you say your name so much?”

 “Doom does not have to answer to a child-“

 “You **are** answering a child.” Kara wanted to stick her tongue out, but could only squeak as something invisible squeezed her tight.

 “Silence!” The magic around Kara changed, and she could feel the bad-smelling magic scratch at her skin. “Save your petulance for your father.”

***

The sidewalk grated against Loki’s hands, the skin red and raw. Everything in him ached, screamed where it was bruised if not broken. His chest ached the most, not for injury or wound, but the hurt he couldn’t banish on Kara being taken.

 He could think about just why it hurt later. Why this loss should be a body blow, not a minor inconvenience. Why he was so deeply invested in the fate of a young human girl. These all could wait until Kara was safe at home. And maybe then he could wonder how a small apartment in Washington Heights had come to feel like home, when no where else had felt the same since that fateful day on Jotunheim. 

 Loki felt the air electrify around him. There was a crack, a flash of white, the smell of ozone, and he knew Doom was glowering above him, even through sight dimmed by the sudden light. Loki raised a hand, blue-green fire flickering to life in his palm. 

 But then his vision cleared, and there was Kara, suspended like a marionette, not even a metre from Doom’s grasp. “Daddy!!”

 The vicious sparks of magic sputtered in his grasp. His anger sank into helplessness, the rage burning at his temples sliding into his chest, pulling him down.

 “Let her go, Doom. Tell me what you want, it’s yours.” Unlike Thor, Loki had never let pride stand in the way of admitting defeat. Of withdrawing from battles he couldn’t win or couldn’t afford to lose.

 “It would please Doom that you abandon your pretense. That you admit your charade to the child.” Loki could see Kara, piecing together the words despite her fear, and Loki’s mouth went dry. 

 Better that Kara live, knowing he was the man who orphaned her, than Kara not live at all.

 Loki slowly rose to his feet, unable to meet Kara’s pleading gaze. “Very well. But you promise-“

 Doom slowly laughed, and Loki could taste bile on his tongue. “So. This human girl is of worth. You will bring the artifact of power which you have hidden from me. You will bring it at midnight.”

 “That’s past my bedtime.” Kara had lost her fear long enough to give Doom the same attitude she gave to any other adult, and the sound if it made Loki’s heart sing.

 “This child is as disrespectful as her so-called father.” Loki couldn’t help but smirk at Doom’s observation. Loki had raised her since she was small - what did Doom expect? “You will bring yourself to the tree. You know of which one I speak.“ 

 Loki knew. The ash tree which pulsed with one of Ygdrassil’s many roots. Of course Doom realized it held power, but Loki knew it’s true magic better than any human ever could. If Doom thought he could best Loki there, he was arrogant.

 Well, both of them were arrogant. Loki was determined to make Doom the only one who was mistaken. If the wolf desired blood, Loki would make sure it had its fill. And once its power was unleashed, it would bear him and Kara far from this miserable world.

 “Very well. The artifact for Kara, unharmed.” Loki tilted his head, a smile tugging at his lips. Kara’s cheek in the face of her captivity heartened his own sardonic defiance.  “I don’t suppose you could do the exchange a little earlier? Say, ten? Tomorrow _is_ a school day.” 

 


	6. one word against a thousand actions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the story resumes after yet ANOTHER longer-than-expected hiatus, Natasha takes an uncomfortable phone call, Tony does something equally uncomfortable, and the team finally has a good shared secret.

 

******************************************

"Yes. Yes, sir. Yes, I understand. Yes, I'll let him know."  A pause. "Yes, I'll be sure to use those exact words."

Natasha’s ears rang with the force of her superior's invective as she ended the call. “So, Director Fury is a little upset.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “What else is new?”

Natasha arched a brow. “He wants you in his office as soon as the latest ‘Loki incident’ is cleaned up.” She pursed her lips. “Something about you making a dumbass decision, without telling him, that’s causing an international incident with Latveria-“

“Oh please. Reed causes incidents every day that ends with -y.”

Natasha crossed her arms across her chest. “-You know those incidents come with a lot of paperwork.”

Steve winced. “He really doesn’t like paperwork.”

“Yes, because me resulting in the indirect death of a forest or two is clearly the worst outcome of a lapse - a rare lapse - in my judgement skills.” Tony looked at the assembled Avengers, sans Clint. The archer had been unnaturally quiet on the flight back, though it might have been because Loki had beaten him black and blue. He was cooling his heels in medical, to the better interests of all involved. “And those judgement skills, I admit, might not have been great-“

“Is this Tony Stark, admitting he’s wrong?” Natasha leaned back against the bar.

“It’s Tony Stark, saying I should have listened to all of you, before I signed off on Loki doing the whole Mr. Mom thing. Which I still think was the call to make in a weird situation. But I'm a grown man-"

Bruce tilted his head, his brows knit together. Tony gave him a slightly affronted nod but continued.

'And a grown man should be able to handle other opinions. Before the deal with Loki and afterwards. If I did, maybe certain people -“ He looked at Natasha. “- and Clint wouldn't have felt they had to go to even worse people in secret.” Tony cleared his throat.“That would be an ‘I’m sorry.’”

Natasha raised a brow. “That’s nice.”

Bruce looked over from where he perched on the couch, and gave a single polite cough.

The slender auburn brow remained raised.

Bruce cleared his throat. “I think you might have something you want to say. Don’t know if you or Clint should be saying it to us first, but it would be a start.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened for a moment. “You’re right, Tony. The team should have had a talk before you let a supervillain raise a little girl. It should have been a decision we made as a team, not as accessories to your ego.” The anger yielded to something that sat even more uncomfortable in her face: guilt. “But you’re right. About me. I can’t apologize for Clint but I should have figured out what he was doing. Maybe I could have stopped it, before it came to this.” Her shoulders slumped. “I knew he didn’t trust Loki - I still don’t - but I didn’t know he’d do something like going to Doom.”

“Not entirely your fault,” Tony replied. He gave an offhand shrug. “You’re only an agent trained in intelligence and covert operations.”

“I’m his friend, Tony. Even when he screws up. I kind of owe him that.” She pushed herself away from the bar. “And so I’m going to see how he’s doing. Out of this room. Which means you all can do your planning in private, and no one is going to let anything slip to SHIELD.”

“Planning?” Thor broke his uncharacteristic silence to look between his team members. “We are planning? Are we not still apologizing?”

“We can finish after you all plot Kara’s rescue. I assume Tony’s been planning it since he knew she was gone. The kind of plan Director Fury told us to stay out of since he found out Kara existed five minutes ago.”Natasha paused at the door, head turned, a half-smile on her lips. “Shame I forgot to mention that.”


	7. when to hold them, when to fold them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A necessary cut-scene to Chapter 6, in which Clint faces some proverbial music - and an honest conversation with a literal Natasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the many readers who commented that Clint seemed to be getting off reaaaaaally light in the previous chapter, thank you. It helped shape this chapter, and the story, I think, is seriously better off for it. Thank you again, and many, many, many thanks to majoline, my wonderful, fantastic beta!

“Natasha, wait.” Her shoulders slumped, ever so slightly. It had been naive of her to think she could talk to Clint before, well, she had to _talk_ to the others about Clint.

The Avengers were making her soft. No good Russian should ever trust in something as flimsy as hope.

She sighed and turned around, a hand brushing auburn waves out of her eyes. “I know, Steve. I know.”

**********

“So, what’s it going to be? Walking the plank or firing squad?”

Natasha couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her friend and fellow SHIELD agent, who was cutting a miserable figure sitting in a half-dark room, running his hands over the bow limbs. It was his daily ritual, one he assured her he could do blindfolded. His fingers stilled, the bow resting in his lap, much like its master: high-strung but forced to be at rest.

Natasha shrugged, even if it felt like her shoulders were made of lead. “Tony decided to put a moon door on the landing deck. He thought it would appease your inner fanboy.”

“He really is the worst Stark,” Clint said with a snort. Natasha raised an eyebrow. That distinction, in her mind, would always be held by Ned and his unhealthy devotion to doing the noble but dumb thing. “Go ahead and tell me what my punishment is. I’m a big boy. A big and very stupid boy.”

“You’re on indefinite suspension.” No sense in delaying the inevitable. A guillotine might be gruesome, but it was preferable to death by a thousand inefficient hacks. “Tony and Cap made the call but we all voted.”

To Clint’s credit, his only reaction was a sad, off-kilter smile. “Secret ballot?”

Nat gently took the bow from Clint’s hand so she could sit besides him. “No.” Her fingers tightened around the cool metal. “But...it was unanimous.”

Clint shook his head, then rested it on her shoulder.“Don’t feel bad. Nobody would blame you. I definitely don’t.”

Nat pulled away, turning to face Clint. “I don’t feel bad, and there’s only one person in this room I’d blame, even if he had reasons.” She felt her jaw tighten.  “Damn it, you should have talked to me. I’m not Tony. I would have listened.”

“I know, Nat. And I would have realized it was an incredibly stupid idea, and we wouldn’t even be here now,” he said. At least he had the sense not to argue now, but that sense would have been really useful before all this. “And if I was stubborn, you would have beat some common sense into me.”

“I’m a big girl. I use my words first,” Nat said, a wry tone creeping into her voice. “And if the words don’t work, I use a roundhouse kick. It’s remarkably effective.”

Clint smiled, rubbing just above his temple. “Does wonders for brainwashing,” he said, and this time Nat put her head on his shoulder. She clasped a hand around his. There wasn’t anything she could say that hadn’t already been said. “Be honest, Nat. Is there anything I can do?”

Natasha raised her brows. “Take down Doom, singlehanded.” Her hold on Clint’s hand turned into a gentle pat. “Preferably by the end of the day.”

Clint’s jaw clenched as he answered. “Be honest and realistic.”

“I don’t know.” She lifted her head and turned her gaze upward. She hoped the desperation in her eyes wasn’t too obvious. “You get involved and Loki is...he’s going to-“

“Going to kill me.” Clint furrowed his brow. “You’re saying that like it’s something I don’t know.”

Nat pursed her lips. “It’s not the killing you part I’m worried about. It’s how long he said it would take.”

“Years?”

“Clint, he’s _thousands_ of years old. I think he has a slightly different definition of long.”

Even in the dim light, Nat could see Clint’s face take on a disturbing pallor.

“I don’t want you to die,” she said, trying not to think of the _or worse_ Loki had so vividly described. “But I know you. You’re not going to let a suspension or a pissed-off demi-god stop you from trying to redeem yourself.” A smile touched her lips. “Take it from an expert in atonement.”

Clint stroked her cheek, as a hint of color started to return to his face. “I promised I’d never hold your past over your head. That’s still a valid promise.” He sighed.  “But what I did, it’s not tragic backstory. It’s a pretty fucked up here and now.”

“It was one bad call,” she said, a little more firmly than she intended. “Okay, a really, really bad call, but...you know my record better than anyone here ever will. You know what I was.”

“A brainwashed child soldier?”

She turned her head away, her gaze fixing on a half-dead peace lily. “A monster.”

Clint turned her gaze back to him, her chin nestled between his strong, steady fingers. “Don’t ever say that. The people who did this to you, they’re monsters. Doom? Monster. You got dealt a bad hand. Yeah, you played it a little longer than was good for you but you stepped away from the table. That’s what matters.” He took in a deep breath. “And what matters is I’m going to help get Kara back.”

Nat stood slowly, handing the bow to Clint as her lips brushed against his forehead. It was a gesture of forgiveness and blessing, and although she’d be loathe to consider herself a goddess she knew Clint would be the first to disagree.

“I can’t promise I won’t do anything stupid, but I’ll try to make it worth it,” Clint said, with another lopsided smile and a glint in his blue eyes. He paused, the smile flickering to a pensive pursing of his lips. “Nat, how do you tell the difference? Between the monsters and...megalomaniacal assholes who got a bad hand but...they’re thinking of putting it down.”

The Russian smiled, shrugging her shoulders. “Easy. You tell when they actually put the cards down.”

 


End file.
